


You Spin Me Right Round

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl





	You Spin Me Right Round

  


Gabe’s not sure what’s a greater high – the concert and the fans and the screams and the flashing lights – or the club after, where all the music is his to make, to bend to his will in mix-ups and mash-ups and straight up down and dirty. Not all his. He shares it with Ryland, which makes it even better.

Gabe’s gotten used to Ryland on his right, smart-ass comments and razor sharp wit, calling Gabe on every stupid thing he’s managed just as quickly as he’s ever commended him on the few things Gabe hasn’t fucked up. Tonight the show was fucking awesome, and the DJ party after was whatever comes after awesome on the scale of holy-fucking-shit-this-is-his-life. He and Ryland are stumbling back to the bus from where the taxi dropped them off, swaying and singing off key, dropping lyrics like they’re dime bags.

The bus is dark and Gabe stops, staring at the tinted windows as if he can see through them. “I think they’re asleep,” he stage-whispers to Ryland, breaking into a fit of thick giggles that taste like vodka and whatever lipstick he got on his mouth from the girls waiting for him when he finished his spins and hit the floor. He picks up a rock from the ground, managing not to fall flat on his face or his ass by hanging on to one of Ryland’s freakishly long arms. “Dude. I got a plan.”

“If it involves Soviet airspace again, you’re on your fucking own, Saporta.”

Gabe straightens and manages to keep himself from falling face first into Ryland’s chest. “To get in the bus.” Gabe is still whispering loud enough to wake the dead, or at least the passed out remnants of Cobra Starship. “We’ll throw rocks.”

“The windows are _glass_.”

“Oh. Oh. Well, fuck. It works in the fucking movies.” He threw the rock and ended up overbalancing, landing on his knees and frowning at the asphalt. “Well, shit.”

“C’mon.” Ryland helps him up, which is pretty dubious, given that Ryland’s at _least_ as drunk as Gabe is, he’s just got a different center of balance or some yoga-shit like that. Either way, Gabe leans on him and into him and Ryland’s sturdy and solid and Gabe’s down with that shit.

“Open the door!” Gabe yells, laughing as his voice echoes around the lot. Somewhere distant someone else, likely equally drunk or trying to get laid yells an answering, ‘Shut the fuck up, Saporta’, and Gabe buries his new set of giggles in Ryland’s chest. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“You’re so much fucking trouble,” Ryland murmurs, pressing Gabe against the bus and into the shadows as one of the lights comes on inside, a sure sign that Victoria is up and pissed off. “Keep your mouth shut.”

Gabe looks up the small distance that it takes, because Ryland’s actually _fucking taller than him_ and grins, his eyes on the prize of Ryland’s mouth and his intentions of claiming it clear. “Make me.”  



End file.
